The Descent
by tooobsessed12
Summary: Delena centric version of The Descent, the next episode . My first fanfic, please read and review and let me know if I should continue writing this story! T for kissing, etc.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: My Delena centric version of The Descent (the next episode) based on the preview. This is my first fanfiction, so I hope someone likes it! Please read and review and let me know if I should continue this story!**

The Grill - Afternoon

The Grill was dimly lit, as always. Nevertheless, Damon Salvatore could see and hear everything perfectly. Including Jules' footsteps as she attempted to leave the restaurant and avoid Damon's notice, to no avail. He was in front of the door, blocking her exit, in mere milliseconds. Still, the girl, the unabashedly evil girl, in Damon's eyes if not all eyes, kept her cool. "How's your friend," she taunted, "Rose? Is that her name?"

Damon clenched his fists, glaring at her, imagining Rose back at the boarding house, in pain. At least Elena was there to keep her company. _Elena._ He immediately thought back to her face as she ran to Stefan the night before. Damn Elena and her perfection, her love for Saint Stefan. God, why did he have to love her? He shook his head imperceptibly, ridding thoughts of Elena from his mind. How could he be so selfish, he admonished himself, thinking of Elena at a time like this, when Rose needed him. Rose, who he had grown to truly care about, who actually cared about him, and not his favored brother. "Look," Damon snarled. "Tell me how to cure a werewolf bite, and I won't kill you."

Jules smirked; Damon thought he might rip her heart out then and there. She ignored his question, choosing instead to continue to torture him, outlining just what Rose was suffering through. "Have the chills started yet?" She asked, knowing the answer full well. "The unbearable pain?" With another smirk that made Damon burn with fury, "And did I mention the dementia?" Damon's mouth set in a thin line as he did his best to hide his terror at the horror he now knew was unfolding at the boarding house. Jules sensed it, however, and continued, "You want a cure?" she sneered, "Take a stake, and drive it through her heart." With that, she turned on her heel and walked out, leaving Damon standing stunned in the Grill's doorway.

The Boarding House – Afternoon

Elena Gilbert lay on a sumptuous bed, kissing Stefan Salvatore, and feeling slightly bored, not that she would admit such a thing to herself. Stefan cupped her face and she leaned into him, pressing her lips against his without thinking about it. Their embraces had become routine, not that Elena minded much. Stefan's lips were comforting; a safe haven from the ever-changing world Elena found herself in so often. Still, as she kissed him, she wished he would be more passionate with her, wished that she felt more of a burning desire for him, rather than just an ease of being. Uncalled for, a memory sprang to the forefront of Elena's mind. Damon, holding her back as she attempted to sacrifice herself, undeniable static electricity flowing between their hands. Damon, sitting on the couch next to her during her "grounding." She had tried her best to stay angry with him for grounding her, among countless other things, but for some reason, she just couldn't. Nor could she hate him, no matter how hard she tried or how many reasons she had to do so. But he didn't need to know that. "Elena," her thoughts were interrupted by Stefan's questioning voice, and she quickly banished all thoughts of Damon, reproaching herself and wondering why she was even thinking these thoughts, when she was sitting here, kissing her boyfriend, who she loved. Stefan tucked one hair behind her ear and Elena found herself irritated, wishing he would do something unexpected, for once. _Stop, _Elena told herself_. You have nothing to complain about! Stefan is perfect. _"Elena," Stefan repeated. "I have to go speak with Alaric about medicine for Rose. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Will you be ok?"

"I'll be fine," Elena said, "but what about Rose?" With Stefan's quick reference to Rose, Elena's mind was consumed, flashing back to Damon and the quest he was currently on to save her. Today Rose was his damsel, not Elena, and she felt an unwanted pang of jealousy. Elena could not believe herself. Rose was in pain, and she was being petty. And why did she care that Damon liked someone else, anyway? "Is Rose going to die?" Elena asked, worried. Stefan didn't answer, only giving Elena a soft kiss before whispering a goodbye and disappearing, with custom vampire speed.

The Boarding House – Afternoon

A piercing shriek rang through the house, reverberating off the walls of every room, shaking the windowpanes on their sills. Elena leapt to her feet and ran down the two staircases to the basement, following the pain-laced sound. Heaving, she pushed against the cold stone door with all her might. As it swung open, Elena's heart dropped and her hand flew to her mouth as she stared in stunned silence at the terrifying sight before her.

**Note: I know there was not that much D/E in this chapter, but there will be a lot more in the next chapter if I keep writing! Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: Thanks for all the reviews! I wrote the next part, please review it! In case you don't remember what happened at the end of the last chapter, here is the last part: **_A piercing shriek rang through the house, reverberating off the walls of every room, shaking the windowpanes on their sills. Elena leapt to her feet and ran down the two staircases to the basement, following the pain-laced sound. Heaving, she pushed against the cold stone door with all her might. As it swung open, Elena's heart dropped and her hand flew to her mouth as she stared in stunned silence at the terrifying sight before her._** Now, here is the new stuff... I hope you like it!**

Rose. Her gray tank top hung in rags from her skin, which had recently turned sallow. She sat on the cold stone floor, Damon's blood bags strewn around her, gulping blood from one of them. Blood ran from her mouth, and dried blood crusted her chin. "Rose," Elena breathed, a mix of grief and terror filling her voice.

Rose turned to Elena, pain clear in her eyes. She looked about to say something but before she could, her face contorted in agony. She let out another scream of pain, making Elena's blood curdle in terror, and pushed herself back up against the stone wall. As Elena watched, something in Rose's eyes changed. She looked around frantically, seeming not to know where she was, before zeroing in on Elena, still standing stock still in the doorway. Her pupils dilated, and when they returned to normal size held no feeling, only a death stare, filled with pure hunger, aimed right at Elena. Slowly, she got to her feet. "Rose," Elena began, her voice shaky with fear, "it's me, Elena." Rose's face showed no recognition; she stalked towards Elena, her fangs protruding and veins appearing below her eyes. Elena knew she had no choice; she turned and ran up she stairs, terror driving her thoughts and actions. She turned her head to look behind her, and saw Rose following her, only a few feet behind. She seemed to be somewhat slowed by the effects of the bite. Still, Elena knew she had no chance against a vampire. Tears filled her eyes and poured down her cheeks; she knew her life would be over in a few short minutes. Without thinking, she screamed for help at the top of her lungs, the first word that came to mind "Damon!"

She found herself in Damon's room, slamming the door behind her. She heard Rose pounding on the mahogany door. Elena looked around the chamber frantically, driven by adrenaline. She saw a small wooden stool, and an idea quickly formulated in her mind. She kicked out one of its supports, wielding the makeshift stake in her hand as she faced down the shaking door. The door shook one more time, before falling off of its hinges, revealing Rose, blood flowing from the corners of her mouth, fangs gleaming in the dim light of the room. She sprang at Elena, and before Elena knew what was happening she was on the ground, gripping the stake as Rose sputtered. Her body spasmed once before stilling. Elena couldn't let go of the stake, which was lodged firmly in Roses chest.

Heaving, she looked down at Rose's still body. What had she done?

The Grill

No one else would have heard it. Even to Damon's vampire sensitive ears, it was barely a whisper. But he could hear Elena's voice from miles away, especially if it was calling his name. Without regard to who was watching Damon ran to the boarding house in a vampire blur. He lost al inhibitions when Elena was in trouble, and he could tell she was by the sound of her voice.

He found her in the hallway outside of his room. Collapsed on the ground, shoulders convulsing with sobs, the hem of her shirt bloodied. His vision tunneled, all he could see was Elena, hurt. All the air left his chest; he couldn't bear to see her in pain. He was at her side in seconds, rubbing her back, caressing her cheek. He listened for footsteps, prepared to rip to shred whoever had hurt her. But he heard nothing. Whoever did this must have left. He clenched his fists and attempted to calm himself, knowing he had to be calm to help her. "Elena," he whispered into her ear, "It's going to be ok. Whatever it is, it's ok. I'm here." He had on idea what to say, what to do. But he was not going to let her remain in pain. She just sobbed harder. He cupped her cheek in his hand, turning her tear streaked face towards him. God, she was still so beautiful.

Elena felt his arms around her, his hand on her cheek, and she was immediately distracted. She looked into his eyes, and everything fell away. Often, she hated how he could do that to her, walk into a situation and make her forget everything she had been intent on doing with one twinkle of his eyes, one word. But now, it was what she needed. She looked at his face, his piercing, beautiful blue eyes, staring at her with worry, compassion, and, she finally admitted to herself, love. Suddenly, she realized. She was about to lose all of this. The moment he saw Rose, dead, any love he felt for Elena would be gone. A pang of jealousy swept through her body as she thought back to how he had looked at Rose that morning before he left her with Elena. A spasm of grief shook her body. She looked into his eyes and knew how much it would hurt to have him gone from her life. He would never look at her with those beautiful blue eyes again, never give her his trademark smirk, never anything. Grief took over, and her sobbing increased, uncontrollable. Without thinking, she threw her arms around his neck, savoring what she knew would be the last moments he loved her.

Her arms were around his neck. He had no idea what was going on, why she was clinging to him in such a, well, for lack of a better word, loving, manner. He shook his head, He couldn't' think about her reasoning right now. He only wanted to make her feel ok again. "Elena, Elena," he whispered in her ear, wrapping his arms around her waist. "What is it?"

"Damon," she cried into his shoulder, "Damon, I'm so sorry." Her body convulsed in his arms and she let out another racking sob. "I didn't want to." He really did not know what was going on now. He took her face in two hands, and stared into her deep brown eyes. "Elena, tell me what's wrong. I'll help you," he said, rubbing her soft cheek with the pad of his thumb.

His hands were soft, perfect. She felt safe in his arms, she never wanted to move. She couldn't believe she was thinking these things, but she couldn't think about that now. This would all be over in a moment, in any case. With that thought, she couldn't take it any more. Tears poured down her face as she looked into his eyes. She took a shaky breath. "You're going to hate me," she sobbed, turning her face down in shame. "Everything we could- everything, everything. I ruined everything. I lost everything…you," she whispered.

Damon didn't know what to think. She had said she lost him, he had no idea how, but anyway, she cared, about him. Damon would have been in ecstasy, if not for her sadness. He couldn't take this much longer. He decided he had nothing to lose, he would bare it all if he thought it could make her feel better. "Elena," he whispered, pushing her hair back with his fingers, "Look at me." He took her chin in one hand, tipping her face up to his, forcing her to look at him. "You could never lose me. I could never stop-" he couldn't say it. Not now, when she would remember, when she would reject him, again, when it would only make her worry more. It was no matter, she seemed to understand, if the tears that spilled down her cheeks were any indication. "Yes," she whispered, "yes, I have."

She understood him, and she felt her heart rip in two, if such a thing were possible. The joy, the lift in her heart when he had almost said it, had been too much for her to take. Elena knew now. She had been lying to herself for moths, she had never felt such elation at something Stefan said, no matter what she wished or how she acted. She couldn't take it any more, the waiting for his reaction. She nodded her head towards the unhinged door to his room, savoring the feel of his palm against her face. Slowly he stood, reluctantly letting go of her, setting her down slowly. The moment his touch left her, she broke down once more, sobbing silently on the floor, waiting to see the blur of him, his speed, rushing past her, leaving the house, leaving her forever.

Slowly, Damon pushed the door open.

**Sorry for the cliffhanger! Their interaction will be continued in the nex chapter. Hope you guys liked it! Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing the last chapter! I wrote this chapter and the last two a few days ago, so that is why I've been able to post them so quickly. I'll try and write the next one soon! Please read and review this chapter!**

Slowly, Damon pushed the door open. He saw, and immediately understood. Rose lay splayed on the hardwood floor, eyes open, stake through her heart. First, anger, cold, hot, burned through him. How could she do this? Take away the one woman he actually cared about, besides her? But then, he understood, It was as Jules had said. The dementia. She had most likely tried to kill Elena, she wasn't herself., wasn't ever going to return to herself. The werewolf bite would have been lethal.

Staring at Rose on the floor, he understood what Elena had been saying. He walked back towards her, watched her for a moment. She lay on the ground, face in her hands, body convulsing with silent sobs. Kneeling, he took her gingerly in his arms. "Elena," he whispered in her ear, "I know what happened. Its ok."

She turned her face up to look at him. This couldn't be true. He was too good to her. She shook her head, this couldn't be happening. But that was how their relationship was, even as a friendship. All consuming, overpowering, too much. "I don't deserve this," she whispered. She knew it was wrong, but she was happy.

Damon could see it in her eyes, she was happy. He had made her happy, by saying that he still cared for her. Just the fact of it gave him courage. He knew what he was going to do before he did it, and he knew he shouldn't do it, knew it would go against all the unselfishness he had promised her, but he didn't care. Holding her chin in one hand, he leaned towards her face slowly, so that she would be fully aware of what was happening. She leaned towards him, her doe eyes half closed.

His lips touched hers, and Elena felt herself surrender any last guards she had up against him. His soft lips fit perfectly against hers. She pressed her lips into his, deepening the kiss. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and Elena fell into him, holding onto his neck with both her hands as his lips searched hers. He ran a hand through her hair, tilting her head back and pressing down on her lips, inspiring a shiver of hunger in Elena that she had never felt before. . She pressed herself against him, hungry for his touch. She was encompassed, enveloped, surrounded by him, the sense of him. Elena had never felt anything as perfect as this. He pulled away momentarily, staring deep into her eyes, questioning. She leaned into him again, pressing softly against his lips, answering any questions he had. She pulled back and saw his eyes, all of his defenses down, looking at her in a way she had never seen him look before. He touched the bow of her lips with his index finger, savoring her touch as if it was a rare delicacy. Elena closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his skin, knowing nothing could ever be better than this, right now. "Damon," she breathed against his fingers. "I –"

The moment was interrupted by the sound of foots steps on the stairwell. "Elena?" Stefan's voice rang out across the hall as he mounted the stairwell. Elena stopped midsentence, as if woken from a reverie. Her hand reached up to hold Damon's reflexively. She knew she wanted nothing more than to stay here, with Damon, forever. But the world was outside, and things were different there. Damon wasn't who he was with her, out there. And _Stefan. _Just this morning she had thought – she _had _loved him. She looked desperately into Damon's eyes, searching for answers.

Damn Stefan, Damon thought. He saw the desperation in Elena's eyes, didn't know what to do. He didn't want to, couldn't hurt her, couldn't let her be hurt. But he couldn't let her go running back to Saint Stefan either. Not after that, not after he had a taste of what they could be. She didn't want that either, he hoped, he desperately hoped. Still, he would let her decide, he wouldn't let Stefan steal this moment from them.

Elena blinked, and Damon was gone in a blur, just as Stefan turned the corner.

**Note: Hope you liked that chapter! Please review! Reviews make me write more quickly…**


	4. Chapter 4

**Note: Sorry it took me so long to write this chapter! I hope you guys like it – please review and tell me what you think!**

Elena splashed cool water on her face in a futile attempt to cleanse herself of the day's traumas, but the liquid did nothing to assuage her worries or erase the images of Damon and Rose that seemed burned on her eyelids. She could not cleanse what cannot be cleansed, she realized ruefully. "Goodnight Elena," Jenna's voice wafted up to her from the living room. "Goodnight," Elena called back, sighing, closing her eyes. Images of the day assaulted her eyes. Stefan had walked in on her in the hallway, and attempted to soothe her, not very effectively. As much as she tried to focus on Stefan, on his comforting scent, all she'd wanted was to be close to Damon again. She had hurriedly explained everything to him, after which he had promised to deal with everything, and dropped her off at home. As much as he had begged her to stay safe at the boarding house for the night, she had waned to sleep in her own bed and, she hated to admit it to herself, but she couldn't imagine sleeping with Stefan after what had just happened with Damon. Elena sighed again; too tired to focus on everything that had happened. She took a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom.

"Nice outfit." Damon's deep voice startled Elena as she walked out of the bathroom, suddenly embarrassed by her skimpy shorts and tank top. He stood leaning against her window, looking gorgeous as always in a tight black shirt. "Damon," she said, battling against what she wanted to say and what she knew she had to, "you shouldn't be here."

"Really?" he asked, cocking one eyebrow in a move that even Elena could not deny was unbelievably sexy. "That's not how you seemed to feel earlier," Damon smarmed, attempting to mask the pang of hurt her rejection caused him with his usual teasing.

"Damon, I'm not Katherine. I'm not going to lie to you," Elena sighed heavily. "I know there is – something – with us. But what I have with Stefan is so much more." Even as she said it, Elena knew she was trying to convince herself as much as she was him.

Damon felt himself burn with fury, then humiliation at how weak he had acted earlier only to be rejected now. Her tears had torn down his façade somehow, and now he almost wished they hadn't. "Elena, I-"

She held up a hand, "let me finish," she began, "I know there is something between us, but it can't happen. When I'm with you, it's like I can't focus on real life, on anything outside of us. I feel… consumed. I'm afraid when I'm with you." She whispered the final few words, only a vampire would have heard them.

Damon shook his head. "If it's real," he said softly, "it's going to be scary."

Elena stared at the carpet, understanding him, as always, but afraid to face his words. "What I have with Stefan, it's safe. I can live a life outside of us. What I have with him is just, like I said, more." Elena breathed in and looked back up, pleading with her eyes for him to accept her words, and not make her make any more choices.

He couldn't do it. He had to prove to her that the fear was worth it, that _they _were worth it. That what he and she had was more than anything she would ever have with Stefan, or anyone else for that matter.

"Really," Damon asked, taking a few swift steps towards her, forcing her to back up against her armoire. She could feel the electricity crackling between them, wanted only to close the gap and be close to him, but told herself she was imagining things. Damon leaned forward, leaving only millimeters of space between their bodies. "Are you telling me," he began, voice low, "that Stefan can make you feel-" As he spoke, he traced his index finger across her exposed collarbone. Elena felt his skin burn a path of fire on hers. –"the way I can?" Damon finished, skimming his finger up her shoulder and slowly pulling down the thin strap of her tank top. Much as she tried not to, Elena lost herself then. She threw her head back, making the armoire creak as her eyes rolled back in desire. "Damon," she breathed.

Damon grinned to himself, wondering if Stefan ever had that reaction with her, joyous over the fact that he could create it in her. HE wasn't done yet. Anger burned cold and hot through him at the though of her, this beautiful creature so close to being his, in Stefan's arms. He loved her, he needed her, he wasn't about to let her escape. When she breathed his name, all coherent thoughts left his mind. Here she was, the woman he loved, wanting him. He leaned his face even closer to hers, and whispered her name into her neck, their breath mixing together in the space between their mouths.

His breath was hot on her neck, their chemistry now undeniable, even to Elena. She felt the space between them, the millimeters, like a gulf.

He could take it no longer. He leaned forward in a swift motion, crashing his lips down onto hers.

Elena responded the moment his lips hit hers, closing any space left between them with her body. Suddenly she was hungry, thirsty; she needed him, all of him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smashed her lips into his, pressing every inch of her body against him, desire in her every cell. He pressed her lips with his tongue, asking for permission, which Elena granted hungrily. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing her back against the armoire. He moved away from her face for a moment, trailing kisses down her neck. Elena leaned her head back against the wood, feeling more _alive, happier, _than she had in months, fire burning through every particle of her. Damon's body fit against hers more perfectly than he could have imagined anyone could. She felt simultaneously safe from outside harm and wonderfully in danger in his arms. His lips pressed down on the base of her neck, the cool skin burning at his touch. Elena felt desire wash over her in a way she had never felt. "Damon," she groaned into his ear as he kissed the top of her neck.

Her voice moaned his name, and he lost any last, tiny, measure of control he had held onto. He smashed his lips onto hers again, and caressed her inner thigh, to which she eagerly responded by wrapping her legs around his waist.

Elena pulled away from his mouth momentarily, panting for breath. He stroked her upper leg and she tightened her legs around his waist, resting on his hipbones. Taking his face in both her hands, she pressed herself into him, wanting nothing but to touch him, all of him. She kissed him frantically, as if he would leave her at any moment. He responded in kind, tightening his grip on her lower back and pressing against her lips just as hard, feeling the same desperation to capture the fleeting moment they had before it passed. She felt his sculpted arms around her back, his abs against her thighs. She fumbled with the first button on his shirt, unable to focus. Finally freeing it, she ripped his shirt off, pressing her hands against his perfect chest. She was lying on her back on her bed in a blur of a second, Damon's forearms on the bed beside her head. She clasped the back of his neck with one hand, pulling him down to her, pressing her lips against his. She arched her back in pleasure, raising herself up to press against the strong contours of his body. She could barely stand no to be touching every inch of him for a second, she had never wanted anyone more than she did Damon, at this moment, never felt more passion in an embrace than she did then. She wrapped her other hand around his neck, moaning his name into his mouth. Swiftly he rolled them over so she lay on top of him, Elena still gripping the back of his neck as he kissed her.

Suddenly, he pulled away, both of them breathless. For a few moments he just stared at her. He ran his thumb down her face, from the crown of her head to her chin, resting momentarily on the bow of her lips, as if memorizing the topography of her. Elena smiled against his fingers, hungry for more of him yet content to just be in his arms, touching him, near him. She leaned down to kiss him again. He kissed her, differently, more softly, before pulling away. "Elena," he breathed, "wait."

**Note: More to come soon. Please review and tell me if you liked this section! Also, let me know if you have any suggestions for what should come next.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Note: Sorry it took me so long to put this chapter up! I've been crazy busy, and I wanted this chapter to be good. Please review and tell me what you think!**

**In case you don't remember, as it has been awhile since I posted the last chapter, the last chapter ended with them kissing on Elena's bed, but Damon interrupted, saying 'wait'. Below, the part in italics is a flashback.**

"Elena," he breathed, "wait."

"What," she murmured against his lips, pressing her body flush against his. She had never felt this way before, never felt such a need to touch someone, to be near them. She didn't know how to handle herself, her desire. He smiled against her, his lips curving around hers perfectly. "Damon," she whispered into his mouth questioningly, wondering why he'd stopped her, wanting only for him to kiss her again.

But, she heard herself say his name, and everything changed. Suddenly, she realized what she was doing. Kissing someone who was _not_ her boyfriend, and not wanting to stop kissing him. What was she doing? Elena couldn't believe herself. It took all the resolve she had in her, but she ripped herself off of him, springing away from the bed, and landing on the floor, immediately feeling as if her heart, a whole part of her, had been ripped out the moment she separated herself from him.

"Elena, I didn't mean –" Damon began, before she cut him off. "I – I can't believe this," she said. "Stefan will…I can' t believe I did this." Elena shook her head violently, desperately attempting to force thoughts of Damon's arms around her, Damon, Damon, Damon, out of her mind. She had to focus. Focus on Stefan, on ending this. Damon was standing over her in seconds, looming, his face contorted in anguish, having understood her thought process immediately, as always. "Really, Elena," he asked. "I thought you were better than that," his voice shook with sorrow, pain, rejection weighing on his shoulders. "I thought you were better than using me, than leaving me. What just happened, you can't deny that. No matter how many times you go running back to perfect, little Stefan." His voice was low, bass and terrifying. He watched Elena shrink from his touch, tears welling in her eyes, and immediately softened. "I'm sorry. I just thought -," he sighed, giving up. What had he been thinking. As if she would ever choose him. As if she should choose him, as if he would let her. "Ill leave you alone, Elena," he said, feeling himself break inside as he let go of the girl he loved. Now he had had a taste of her, all he wanted was to take her in his arms and never let go, but he knew he couldn't. "Forever. I promised I wouldn't be selfish with you and I won't be.," he said firmly, turning to leave. "God, I wish you didn't have to have forgotten it," he whispered to himself.

He was gone in a blur, leaving behind only an open window, curtains swaying in the breeze.

Why did his words sounds so familiar? _I can't be selfish with you. God, I wish you didn't have to forget. _His words repeated themselves in her mind, over and over, no matter how she tried to shake them. She played with the vervain around her neck as she racked her brain for what his words reminded her of. Out of nowhere, an image hit her. Damon, holding her necklace out to her, that night after he and Stefan had saved her. Damon's pupils dilating, a tear on his face. No, she told herself, she must be imagining things. Damon didn't cry. A breeze blew through the curtains, hitting her face, and suddenly the images morphed together, into a sequence of events, and she remembered.

She remembered, and she couldn't breathe. How could this have happened? How could she be remembering this, when he had compelled her not to, as she had just realized. But she couldn't focus on that right now. She couldn't do anything other than sit, her back against her armoire, and relive the moment.

"_Cute PJs," he had said, squinting his eyes in that sultry way he had. But the look was different somehow, a seriousness she wasn't used to behind the flirtatious words. His eyes ran up the length of her body, and Elena felt herself shiver. She sighed, she couldn't deal with him right then. Not after he had just saved her life, not when she knew she had to hate him, and knew she somehow couldn't. She crossed her arms over her chest, "I'm tired, Damon."_

_ "I brought you this," he rose from his seat next to her window, his biceps noticeable against his black shirt, Elena wished she didn't notice. He dangled her vervain necklace as he walked towards her._

_ "I thought that was gone," Elena said softly. He shook his head without a word. "Thank you," she couldn't believe he'd returned to the house, to do what must have been a painstaking search just so she would be protected. She reached for the necklace, but he held it slightly out of her grasp. "Please give it back," she said, panicking slightly although she hid it well, knowing the only reason he'd want her vervain- free was to have her compellable. _

_ "I just have to say something," Damon said, all play drained from his eyes._

_ "Why do you have to say it with my necklace?" She said quickly, fearing what was about to come out of his mouth._

_ He squinted, appearing to be truly pondering her question before answering, "because what I have to say is probably the most selfish thing I've ever said in my life."_

_ "Damon, don't go there," her voice wavered, she didn't know what she would do, if she could hold herself together, if she heard the words she knew were coming. _

_ "I just have to say it once," he said, stepping closer, "you just have to hear it." His eyes pierced straight into hers, seeming to delve into her, swirling her very core until she felt unstable. "I love you, Elena."_

_Elena felt all expression leave her face, stunned to hear those words from mysterious, dangerous, Damon. Yes, she had heard them from Isobel, but it wasn't the same, not in the slightest. This was different. His words were all she could hear, all the mundane household sounds, creaking pipes, the breeze from her window, blocked out in the face of his admission. Though she knew she shouldn't be, she couldn't help but feel somewhat happy, deep inside, beneath the sadness, the awe, the confusion his words brought up inside her. She wanted to fall into him, stop hiding herself, but she couldn't. _

"_-and it is because I love you, that I can't be selfish with you." The pain in his face was palpable. Elena couldn't respond, could only stand and stare and feel the tears welling in her eyes._

"_and why you can't know this," he paused for half a second, shaking his head, sorrowful. "I don't deserve you." Elena opened her mouth, about to speak, to contradict him, though she knew she shouldn't. At this point, she didn't care what she should and shouldn't do. All she could see, think about, care about, was Damon. "But my brother does," he said. He leaned forward, and closing his eyes pressed his lips softly against hers. She closed her eyes too, involuntarily, savoring his touch. The movement was the most tender shed ever seen from Damon, the sweetest touch she'd ever felt. He pulled back, placing a hand on her face, a caress. "God, I wish you didn't have to forget this," he said, his voice full. Elena's eyebrows creased as she realized she had been too caught up, had missed her chance to stop him. "But you do." He stared into her eyes, reaching into her, ripping away their moment, taking something more precious to her than he could have imagined, as a tear streaked down his face, so quickly that he thought she didn't notice, but she did. And then he was gone in a blink, disappearing before she was ready, as always. _

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	6. Chapter 6

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She remembered everything. The pain in his eyes, the words he had spoken, his kindness, his sacrifice, his love, how he had taken it all away from her. She remembered and she cried. She cried because she hadn't known, she cried because she knew now who he really was, how wonderful he was, she cried because she knew what she now had to do.

Tears streaming down her face, Elena ran to her car, sloppily putting the key into the ignition. She drove fast, too fast, until she reached the boarding house. She pushed open the immense front door, and stormed into the house. She saw him immediately, sitting in the lounge as usual, nursing a glass of whiskey.

Damon turned, hearing the door slam. At the sight of her, tear streaked and still beautiful, he sprang to his feet, at her side in a second.

His eyes bore into her, brows laced in concern, "Elena, what is it," he asked. Elena felt herself crack in the face of his unending concern, even after she had only minutes before rejected him, quite, even she admitted it, brutally. It was all she could do to get it out, one word, a question she already knew the answer to, yet for some reason needed to hear again: "why?"

"Why what?" Damon, for once, was not one step ahead, not seeing right through her. She raised her fists, pounding once on his chest, before collapsing into his chest, letting his arms wrap around her, her tears wetting his shirt. "Hitting on me seems to be your favorite thing to do, hmm," Damon chuckled into her ear, referencing the many times she had literally hit him, doing the only thing he knew to do when he had no idea what to do: flirt. Elena felt herself almost smile; Damon didn't stop bantering with her even in the darkest times and this fact was oddly comforting. But he was serious again in seconds, "Elena, really. What is it?"

She took a ragged breath, stepping away from him reluctantly. "Why would you – why would you take that away from me?" She knew why, she just couldn't fathom it. It was too good of him, too caring, too self-deprecating. He was too much, as always. She couldn't speak coherently, she felt like she was overflowing; with emotion, with yearning, with desperation. "I have no idea what you are talking about," Damon struggled to stay calm even though his frustration at her cryptic words.

She could barely think straight, she had no idea how to explain what she knew, or how she knew it. All she could think to say came out slowly.

"_I just have to say it once, you just have to hear It_." Damon's jaw dropped as he heard his words repeated in her voice, musical even as she cried. He had no idea how to respond. "You-you shouldn't remember that," he managed to stutter.

Damon Salvatore, stuttering. At any other moment, Elena would have marveled at her ability to break a façade that appeared to be unbreakable, but she could not focus on that now. "What gives you the right," she said, stepping slightly away from him and pushing one hand against his chest in frustration, "to say something like that and just – just take it away?" Her voice cracked on the last words as she thought back to the moment again, holding it to her, refusing to ever let it go again.

"Elena, I didn't mean to hurt you," he was incredulous. He couldn't believe she cared that he had made her forget he said what he said to her, couldn't believe she cared that he'd said it. "I didn't want to make you-" he tripped over his words, cursing himself for sounding like an idiot. "I knew you wouldn't want to hurt anyo- me, and I didn't want to force you to do it. You couldn't know. I'm no good for you, anyway." He sighed, his eyes leaving hers for a moment to gaze off somewhere she couldn't see, the pain in them plainly visible. He laughed caustically, attempting to mask his emotions, as usual, speaking acerbically, "and even if I had let you remember, what would have been the point? What would have happened? As we just saw, it's not as if you would have fallen into my arms and rode off into the sunset with me."

Elena felt a myriad of emotions play through her; anger, love, disbelief at how thoroughly he had thought this through, at how unselfish he had been, at how little he thought of himself. She thought back to what they had been doing less than an hour before, how he hadn't said anything then.

This was Damon Salvatore, she reminded herself. He didn't love anyone anymore. And why would he love her, of all people? She didn't treat him well, she had barely spoken to him since he had attacked Jeremy. Just the thought that what he said could have been a lie almost broke her. A new wave of tears welled in her eyes as the words tumbled out – "or you made me forget because you didn't mean it." She hated how weak and insecure she sounded.

Damon could not believe what he was hearing. How could she doubt that anyone loved her, he wondered. He cupped her face in his, tilting it towards his. "Elena," he said firmly, prepared to accept however she reacted to his words, having given up expecting anything, realizing she didn't want him to protect her from himself. "I meant everything I said that night. I still mean it." He wiped away a tear that had slid out of her eye with the pad of his thumb, and flipped over one of his hands, resting it on her cheek. He spoke softly, his voice a caress, words only for her. "I love you, Elena."

He loved her. Damon Salvatore loved her. Unreachable, playboy, dangerous, completely wrong, yet somehow perfect, Damon, loved _her_. She opened her mouth to say she had no idea what, ready to let herself go, to dive into whatever this was, all coherent thought having completely left her mind, replaced by thoughts only of Damon. She smiled softly, happiness at his words coursing through her.

"Elena?" Stefan's voice cracked. Elena and Damon turned their heads suddenly, their gazes unwilling to leave each others', but the trance broken by Stefan's entrance. Damon cursed him in his head.

Tears appeared in Stefan's eyes as he stared at Damon's hands, caressing Elena's skin, holding her more tenderly than he had ever seen Damon touch anyone. Elena saw Stefan, too many thought running into her head at once. Before she knew what she was doing, she stepped closer to Damon, his arm immediately snaking around her body protectively.

Watching their movements, something in Stefan's eyes changed. His fists clenched, undereye veins protruding. Before Elena or Damon knew what was happening, Stefan had done what for him was unthinkable. Had it not been so unexpected a move from Stefan, Damon would have been there first, stopped him.

Stefan held Elena by the shoulders, slamming her against the wall. She shrank away from him, terrified, having not seen him like this since his stint on human blood. "Really? Him?" Stefan spat, pulling Elena slightly towards him before slamming her back against the wall again. Tears sprung to her eyes, "Stefan, please," she whispered. He shook his head, staring at her with disgust. "I gave you another chance, Katherine," He whispered, "and you wasted it on _him_?" Elena's eyes widened, had he just called her Katherine? He had, she hadn't imagined it. He had given _Katherine_ another chance. She had been right when she first saw the picture, she couldn't believe how stupid she had been. She was nothing but a second rate copy, of course. She felt herself break inside. It had never been her, it never would be. It had always been Katherine.

Suddenly, Stefan was on his back on the ground, Damon looming over him, having thrown him off of Elena. Stefan sat up, about to move towards Elena again. Damon stepped in front of him, his voice low but steeped in danger. "Don't you dare touch her."

"You have no right to her," Stefan yelled.

"I am not claiming her, brother. Though you appear not to have noticed, she's a person, not a thing to be claimed. I thought you deserved her more than I do, and I still don't deserve her. But after this, neither do you."

Stefan lunged at him, but Damon had him back on the ground in less than a second. "Don't even try, Stefan. You know you are nowhere near as strong as me. And if you even try to hurt her again, I _will_ kill you. Now get out."

Stefan had no response. He couldn't believe what he had just done, yet he was still so furious with both of them. He couldn't believe he had called her Katherine, but he knew he had thought of her as some version, some better Katherine, he just hadn't wanted to believe that he did. "Wait," he begged, "I'm sorry." Damon glared at him, not accepting something as simple as an apology after what he had just done. Stefan stood. "Elena?" He said softly. She stared at him, shaking her head, tears coursing down her face.

"And Stefan," Damon said, his voice acidic, "as I've said before, Elena is _not_ Katherine. And don't you dare compare her to that bitch again."

Stefan's eyes filled with tears as he faced what he had done, said. In a blur, he was gone, leaving Elena and Damon alone in the silent boarding house, the only sounds the whistle of wind coming in through the doorway.

Elena couldn't cry. She felt broken, torn apart by Stefan's words. Yet, when Damon sat down beside her, without saying a word, she felt slightly pieced together. "He's right," she whispered, "I am her." Damon opened his mouth, but she spoke first. "Look what I've brought you two to, just like she did. I am her. _I _am nothing." Her voice was barely a whisper

Damon repositioned himself to face her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "No. You are absolutely not Katherine. I would know. I admit, when I first saw you, there was no avoiding comparisons. But the entire time I've known _you_, I haven't seen her in you once. Elena, you are – you are," he stumbled over his words again, he couldn't believe it. "perfect," he finally breathed, "_nothing_ like her. And you are not nothing. Elena, you are everything. _Everything_ to me." Elena looked into his eyes, piercing blue pools staring into her, seeing all of her, yet still believing that she was perfect, and she let herself fall apart, trusting that he would be able to put her back together.

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